


Uncomplicate You

by HarveyDangerfield



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Partial Mind Control, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-27 15:11:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14428209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarveyDangerfield/pseuds/HarveyDangerfield
Summary: Anders is struggling to get off, and it's been making his work suffer. Justice absolutely will not stand for this.





	1. Chapter 1

It's late at night, the clinic is quiet and Anders can't sleep. He's wrong himself free of one orgasm, it wasn't up to par. One of those frustrating dry wheezes that barely gave him any relief. Sweat rolls down his cheek as he pumps furiously at his cock, brows knitting together in irritation. He won't stay hard, his cock too chapped, and his teeth sink into the pillow underneath him to muffle his angry growl. Sleep would not come easy if he gave up, he'd lay awake with an ache that wouldn't leave him for days. It would keep him from focusing on what was at hand, completely consuming him if he didn't get one good release. He knows this because it's been like this for days.

  
  
"Andraste's flaming asshole, please!" He whispers heatedly into the pillow.

  
  
All at once he feels a familiar tingle wash over him, and the veins along his arms snaking up his neck glow a brilliant blue that lights up the tiny closet at the back of the clinic that serves as his bedroom, the scant oil lamp long since choked out. It's been a while since he felt the surge of Justice taking him over, and every time previous he recalls feeling it in the rush and adrenaline of battle, never like this.

  
  
 **Enough,** Justice's voice speaks through his mouth. **For three nights you have lain awake frantically touching yourself. Your good work is suffering. This must stop.**

  
Anders fully knows the addiction caused when the spirit wakes, he longs for it often enough. He rolls on to his back, limbs heavy from strenuous work. "I know you don't understand, Justice." His voice whispers as he pushes blond locks away from his face, a frown curling on his dry lips. "A living creature has it's needs and this is one of them. Attention, pleasure and release. It not only helps the mind but the body. We share a mind, Justice, you can see that I'm not lying."

  
  
 **You must strike this from your needs,** Justice says, as if it's just that simple. **This is consuming you. This should not be what consumes you. What of your passion? Your drive? Your mission? This complicates it. This makes it messy. You must remain focused.**

  
  
Anders laughs softly, he can feel the tingle of pleasure at the sound of his voice. Justice's voice was pleasant to listen to and there was a part of him that truly loved the spirit but damn, did he get on his nerves sometimes. "I'm not a spirit, Justice. I'm a human, that makes me inherently messy and complicated." He reaches out for the water beside the bed, hydrating himself. "My mission is still there but even I need rest. Think of it like honing a blade, if it's dull it can't serve it's purpose but after sharpening it with a whetstone. It can truly be of use."

  
  
Justice is silent for a while, and Anders can feel him in contemplation. The seconds tick by and Anders has the pleasure of just lying there and enjoying the feeling of Justice's presence in his body in a way he's never been able to before in the heat of battle. He can feel the hum under his skin, the buzz in his fingertip, the vibration in his teeth, and he realizes with a heady pulse that he's completely hard again.

  
  
 **Very well,** Justice once again commands Anders' body and the mage's limbs go heavy in that way they do when he loses control of them to the spirit inside him. **I understand. I will sharpen your blade so that you may rest and focus on your mission.**

  
  
Just like that, Justice wraps his hand around Anders' cock and begins to pump. His technique is laughable, gentle pressure with an almost mechanical up-down motion, but even that feels better than what Anders was suffering with just minutes ago. The feeling is strange but not unpleasant, Anders knows he's made a few jokes in the past about having another inside him but nothing like this. It's more intimate, Justice can read his thoughts and feel his emotions. There's no disconnect between the two, they're different people within the same body. Justice knows of the mage's proclivities towards him, the lust and love that intertwines when they speak with one another. It's not a secret, it could never be a secret.

  
  
An owlish blink given towards the ceiling, Anders had expected the spirit to shrug it off and let him continue. When his limbs grow heavy and Justice takes over, a powerful surge of pleasure races across his skin. He's helplessly trapped in his own body, submitting to the spirit's will.

  
  
"Justice." It's half way between a moan and a laugh. "Run your thumb over the tip, squeeze at the top and slowly loosen your grip on the stroke down."

  
  
 **Picky,** Justice says, and it makes Anders laugh again. But it cuts off with a moan when Justice does as he suggested, swirling his thumb over the tip and modulating his pressure. His hand squeezes as he strokes up and then releases pressure completely before moving his hand back down to the base and giving another squeezing stroke up to the head. Something almost like pride fills him when Anders immediately responds with breathless moans and twitches of his muscles that won't obey. He allows Anders to move the rest of his extremities and his legs lift into a comfortable bend with his feet on the bed, and his hips shift into a better position. 

 

 **Is this satisfying?** Justice asks, his other hand limp on the bed beside Anders.

  
  
The pleasure rolls through him in soft waves, easier than the nearly painful pleasure from earlier that left him wanting rather than satisfied. It's his own hand that strokes him but Anders simply closes his eyes, let's himself be taken by the image of the spirit touching him. "Yes but I want more." Physically, it was never a possibility but in his own body, it's still pleasurable. His hips cant upwards into the stroking hand as he mumbles pleasurable sighs.

 

"Touch me with the other hand. Have you ever been curious about it?" He wets over his lips. "You've seen me with others. Have you..." Anders trails off but the spirit can see it in his mind. Have you ever wanted to touch me? Pleasure me like the others.

  
  
 **I do not desire as you do,** Justice answers, but nevertheless the other hand moves. It lifts to slide up over Anders' heaving belly, up to his chest, his thumb clipping a nipple. When Anders gasps he pays more attention to the spot, rubbing his thumb in a firm circle over the bud until it goes soft and hot.

  
  
Justice knows what Anders likes, of course. He had been there for every desperate tryst, every frantic coupling, every meaningless fuck that always inevitably left the mage feeling hollow a few hours later. Justice has lectured him about the fleeting insecurity he always caves to. Perhaps if he were to take the role of Anders' desires, he would be less likely to seek out others. And so with that, Anders is taken by surprise as cautious mechanical hands suddenly are possessed with purpose. The hand on his cock twists, the fingers on his nipple pinch and twist, and his hips thrust up into Justice's hand with force.

  
  
"I know." Anders' reply is quiet, he knew asking was a moot point but damn, he'd set himself up for heartbreak with that one. It's getting harder to keep quiet, his voice rising with every slide of those digits. "I desire you." He confesses out loud, arching his body into Justice's ministrations. "I have desired you for a long time."

  
  
As many times as Justice has lectured him, Anders has always ignored the spirit on this particular subject. Intimacy in some form, all people desired that. It wasn't always sex that someone desired, each had their own needs. The sudden shift in Justice's actions brings him out of his own head, he gasps in surprise and moans loud enough that he's certain he'll wake someone from their sleep. "Justice! Oh, god!" The mage twists on the bed, heels digging into the meager blankets beneath him. "Please, Justice! Please, keep talking to me."

  
  
 **You are objectively desirable to mortals,** Justice says. A laughable attempt at dirty talk, but it still gets Anders' blood moving. It's enough, Anders thinks to himself, it's definitely enough. The fact that Justice is even attempting it was more than he could have ever hoped for.

  
  
The other hand moves up to his mouth, tracing his lips, running his thumb over Anders' lip, and in a moment, Anders realizes that this is Justice _kissing him._ Emotion wells up in his chest despite his best attempts to quell them, his lips press gentle kisses against digits. Tongue flicking out against them teasingly. With his eyes closed, he can almost pretend, almost fool himself enough.

  
  
The fingers leave a moment later and Anders worries he offended Justice somehow, but as he cracks his eyes open and tips his head to the side, he sees Justice reaching for his oil lamp and dipping his fingers inside. Pleasure surges through Anders' body at the sight alone. He knows what it means, he knows the only reason the spirit would slick up his fingers like that. He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself, knowing that he'll come too quickly if he grows too eager.

  
  
Justice lets his fingers drip first over Anders' cock and the texture of his stroking hand is immediately silky smooth. And that alone would have been enough, but then Justice spreads his thighs and reaches down between his legs and presses against his furl. A finger splits him, thin but determined, and hooks up into him with the singular purpose of a being that knows Anders' anatomy intimately inside and out. Justice finds and strokes his prostate on the first slide.

  
  
His spine bows harsh off the bed as a thin digit enters him, pressing immediately against his prostate on the first try. "Justice!" He wails at the first real pleasure that he's had in a long time, there's nothing hollow or emotionless about it. While it was desperate and needy, this isn't simply a one time deal. Both have agreed to it without words, acknowledging it silently. Hips roll back, riding himself down on the digit with impatient neediness. "Fuck!" He repeats it over again, thighs quivering with the intensity of it.

  
  
 **Your capacity for pleasure is impressive,** Justice speaks, and even just the way his voice vibrates in Anders' chest makes him dizzy with bliss. He can feel the thrum of it all the way down his belly, tickling his pelvic floor as Justice inserts a second finger into him and begins to thrust them. It's not a cock, but it's still warm and real and deliberate, and even though they're his own hands, the level of removal that Justice gives him by commanding his own limbs to the point that Anders couldn't move them if he tried, makes it feel like the touch of another man.

  
  
He thrusts his fingers at the wrist, keeping the digits straight as possible to mimic the feeling of being penetrated by a penis as much as he can with Anders' meager fingers. He brushes his prostate on every stroke, and the velvety slick glide of the oil inside him is heavenly as Justice quickens his pace until the oil squelches with every rapid snap of his wrist.

  
  
The dirty talk definitely needs some work but Anders realizes this is just the way the spirit talks. Enough to make sense and get the point across but nothing more. No flowery poetry, no creative insults. A hum of pleasure rolls from his throat, he closes his eyes and loses himself in the fantasy. All that armor Justice wears in the fade, he slowly peels it off in his fantasy and it reveals a handsome older man. A white-bearded fellow with blue eyes the same color as Justice's light, a charming wrinkled face and strong arms.

  
  
The muscles in his stomach clench with need, Anders' legs give out as the pleasure takes control of his body. All he can do is twist and whine against the blankets as those digits fuck him mercilessly. "Justice! Oh, Justice," He moans the spirit's name over and over. His cock weeps with pleasure as a sob breaks from his lips, and the orgasm hits him so hard it's painful. It makes his body writhe and convulse of it's own accord, hot sticky ropes of seed splashing against his stomach.

  
  
Justice is relentless, tugging his cock and fucking Anders with his fingers until the mage sags onto the blankets and his cock flags, draped wet and soft over his belly. He leaves Anders lying there, heaving and panting, arms flat over over his belly, sweat rolling down the sides of his throat.

  
  
 **Are you satisfied?** He asks a moment later, the softest Anders has ever heard Justice's voice.

  
  
Anders gasps, unable to truly give an answer at first. His throat was dry, lips wrinkled and parched. He clears it, wetting over his lips until he can find the words. "Yes." For once in years, the emptiness after sex doesn't come. Questions, yes... but there wasn't that hole in his chest from a desperate fuck. "Thank you, Justice."

  
  
 **Now rest,** Justice commands. **If again you find yourself in need, I would prefer you call upon me than another. I will uncomplicate you.**

  
  
"Is that your way of saying... no one else is worthy of me?" Anders asks with a laugh.

  
  
 **If that is how you would like to interpret it,** Justice says, the closest to humor Anders has ever heard. And then the glow recedes, and the feeling returns to Anders limbs. He feels loose and warm and comfortable and satisfied in a way he hasn't felt since Karl, both physically and spiritually.

  
  
A shaky hand lifts to wipe him clean of his mess, and Anders rolls on to his side. It's a warm soft happiness that fills him, he wipes a tear from his cheek. Perhaps he didn't need to search for someone else to fill his nights, Justice could provide after all, in the way that he always did.


	2. Chapter 2

It's one of those rare moments, everything is calm and people seem to be enjoying themselves. Hawke and Varric joke over blades while he looks over staves. The merchant seems eager to sell him something but the moment that he insults Anders' blade, the mage walks off without another word. Trinkets sparkle in the midday sun, distracting him from his irritation. Golden chains link a small medallion, runes inscribed around a blue stone, it's beautiful but not truly his style.

  
That's when he sees it from his peripheral and at first, Anders is certain he's seeing things. A huff of laughter when he realizes it's actually there, a long phallic shaped toy out in the open for anyone to see. Amusement riddles his features, brows raising. He had to tell Hawke about this. The last thing he expects is to hear the familiar echoey voice of Justice in his head as he looks at the toy.

  
**Purchase that.**

  
"Ah, what?" Anders looks perplexed, scratching over a stubbled cheek.

  
"Beg pardon?" the shopkeep looks up when Anders responds out loud. 

  
**I said purchase that,** he hears Justice say again in his head. **The phallus. Purchase it.**

  
Anders hadn't realized he'd moved to the stall, had Justice moved him or was it simply automatic? He can feel his cheeks heat under the merchant's steady gaze. 

  
"How much is this?" The blond gestures towards the toy nervously. 

  
"Three gold, thirty silvers." 

  
The money is quickly exchanged and Anders stuffs it into his pack before his companions can catch sight of it. As he reunites with Hawke, Varric and Isabella part of him fears that they will somehow instinctively know it's in his bag, but they say nothing to his face of course. He follows them as Hawke purchases a new set of armor for himself, and then to the Hanged Man after for drinks to celebrate their most recent job well done. 

  
All day, Anders can feel the toy burning a hole in his bag. It feels heavier than normal, hyper-aware of the weight of it in his satchel. Guilt wracks him as badly as the questions. He paid nearly three and a half gold for a sex toy when he could have used that to buy medical supplies for his clinic. He can't remember if he accidentally took the money from the donations pouch, or if it was from his personal share of the loot they gather from Hawke's jobs, but either way the money could have gone to something better than a toy. 

  
And why did Justice tell him to buy it anyway? He's not a stupid man, he remembers the event that happened a few nights ago, when Justice... made love to him? Fucked him? Neither sounds right in his own head. But Justice is all about practicality and the mission, so why would he advocate for Anders to spend so frivolously on a sex toy? And why is he being so suspiciously goddamn quiet now?

  
It plagues him for the few hours he's surrounded by his companions, Varric was truly one of the few to notice. He'd asked if he was okay, but Anders had simply waved it off as being exhausted. The dwarf had taken it as the healer being paranoid about leaving the clinic for so long and had offered comfort, kind but ultimately useless. 

  
Justice was oddly quiet, he was usually there in the back of his mind, making idle comments. The silence frightens him and when everyone bids each other goodnight, Anders practically bolts towards the clinic. His long legs carry him to Darktown quickly enough, his patients sound asleep by the time he weaves through beds until he can hide in his small room. 

  
His room is barely large enough to be considered more than a closet, enough for a bed and a small desk but it's cramped. Everything squished together so that he has to sit on his bed to write at the desk. "Why?" He finally asks in a soft hiss, waiting for the spirit to answer the question he's had in his head for hours.

  
 **You compared your need for release to sharpening a sword,** Justice answers evenly. **I required a whetstone.**

  
Anders opens his mouth and quickly snaps it shut. "You picked an awfully big whetstone, Justice." The mage fishes it out of his pack to eye it.  It's well sculpted, the tip a black shade that fades into a white base. Someone had lovingly taken the time to detail out the tip and add ridges along the length.

  
 **I am aware of your preferences,** Justice replies. **Are you dissatisfied with it?**

  
"Aware of my preferences." Anders laughs breathlessly. "No, I just wasn't expecting it. You're usually so frugal about expenses."

  
 **I calculated the cost. The amount of time you have lost either fantasizing about a lover or spent chasing after one or squandered because of your inability to sleep through your need or from avoiding sleep in an attempt to satisfy it justifies the expense,** Justice explains. **You will cover the cost in extra time spent on your mission. Less time wasted with unsatisfying lovers. Your pleasure is my responsibility now. As with all things I do, I intend to do it well.**

  
Anders finds it rather amusing, and the dildo weighs nicely in his hand. "I get it, I get it." He chuckles and settles on the edge of the bed, digits brushing over the ridges. "Was that a bit of pride I heard in your voice, Justice? Are you certain you can please me enough that I won't fantasize or chase after a lover? It isn't simply about sex, you know."

  
 **I do not fall victim to pride, that is a demon's gambit,** Justice says severely. **I stated an objective fact. I know that I am more than capable of keeping you on the right track because it has been four days since I last coupled with you, and you have been feeling the urges again since last night, and not once has your eye strayed. You anticipate my intervention. Undress and lay on the bed.**

  
Anders' lips purse in mild irritation, the spirit was right. He hadn't thought of anyone in the span of days, nothing but Justice. Even Hawke's flexing biceps hadn't given him pause. "You don't have to call me out like that, Justice." Even so, eager digits remove his robes and he lays his thin form down on his furs.

  
 **Incorrect. It is my job to do so** , Justice says, as the light blooms through Anders' body again, and the thrum of energy fills him, and he feels the strings tethering himself to his body sever like a marionette, control dropping away from his limbs as they're taken over by the spirit. 

  
"Is this the part where I ask you what you're wearing?" Anders smirks. 

  
**We are naked,** replies Justice. 

  
"I'm just trying to get in the mood," Anders rolls his eyes with a smile. 

  
**You require a mood?**

  
"How can you have been with me for so long and not understand flirtatious banter?" Anders laughs breathlessly. "I've slept with several people over the years and you haven't noticed a formula." Cool air makes goosebumps prickle along is freckled skin, he should have gotten under the furs. "As for the mood, I just spent hours nervously wracking my brain for answers.  I'm not particularly in an aroused state of mind."

  
 **You require a mood,** Justice says it again. **Very well, I will provide one. Close your eyes and imagine your companion, Hawke.** Anders smiles, and he does. **Is that sufficient?**

  
It isn't. Hawke's handsome face and rippling muscles just weren't doing it for him, which was strange. Anders never had a problem fantasizing about the champion. It's a slide show of faces within his own mind, shifting through possible scenarios and partners but none of them seem to add up. Finally, Anders settles on the face he made up for the spirit with a sigh. "What have you done to me, Justice?"

  
 **I have done nothing. Hawke's features are symmetrical, he is objectively handsome. You have engaged with him sexually in your fantasies before. He has not recently mistreated you or upset you. There is no logical reason for your inability to engage with him again.**

  
"Shut up and touch me," Anders groans, shifting his hips against the furs.

  
 **Very well,** Justice says, and he starts by sliding his hands up and down Anders' chest and belly, just to rub away the gooseflesh at first. **I am glad to see that you have already stricken your fantasies. This system must already be working. But I must ask who the old man is you are picturing now.**

  
Anders snorts out a soft laugh. "It's how I picture you." He confesses. "You're image is animated armor but you have no true face. So, I made one up in my head and that's how I see you. An old wizened man who can be a bit grouchy and pedantic sometimes."

  
 **I am not pedantic,** Justice says immediately, and it makes Anders laugh again. He doesn't know the last time he felt like he could laugh during an intimate moment. He doesn't even remember laughing with Karl, he'd been so young and in love and afraid to seem immature to the older man, so terrified to lose him. 

  
But then his hands stop moving for a moment, and Anders can feel Justice looking over the image Anders has conjured for him. White hair shaved on the sides and combed back on top, a crisp groomed white beard with angular edges and an upturned mustache, severe blue eyes and a waistcoat accenting his slim waist and broad shoulders. Anders has put real care into crafting an appearance for _him_. The hands begin to move again, and they slide up to cup under his chin and drag down his throat to one nipple. 

  
**Close your eyes again,** Justice commands, and Anders does. **Imagine him. The man with the white beard. That is me. His hands are touching you now. My hands.**

  
Anders knows it's just a simple fantasy that he's created in his head, Justice has no true human form. It's his dream man, the one he's created in his head. Handsome, older but with a twist of Justice. Those severe eyes and stoic features a tribute to the spirit that lives inside him or perhaps... Justice was his ideal man given form in his dreams. He trembles against the furs, deep shuddering breathes taken through his nose as Justice commands him to imagine the fantasy. It's easier the second time to disconnect reality from his fantasy, fully giving into the idea it's Justice's hands on his body. Thighs spread wide, shoulders press back against the blankets as if he's putting himself on display for a man who can't really see it. 

  
"Do you like the imagine I conjured for you?" Anders whispers. "It seemed fitting."

  
 **It is appropriate,** is all Justice says as one hand lifts up to tangle into Anders' hair and pull  his head back, while the other slides down to ghost over his soft cock. **Keep your eyes closed. It is my hands on you now. I am touching your penis.**

  
Anders can't help but laugh. "Don't call it that."

  
 **What should I call it?** asks Justice. 

  
Anders takes a moment to collect himself, breathing out a sigh. "Cock or dick. Penis is humorous and not at all to be used during sex. Just as you should use ass instead of butt or rump. You've heard vulgar language." The mage shifts his hips, letting his eyes close once more. "You could compliment me, tease me. You don't have to keep describing what you're doing, I can feel it."

  
 **I have heard the language,** Justice confirms, annoyed, and the tone of his voice makes Anders smile again. 

  
"What happened to you doing this well as you do all things?" Anders teases. 

  
**Silence,** commands Justice, and one of Anders' hands clamps over his mouth to keep him from responding out loud, while Justice's voice still rings in his head. **Your body is mine to command. If you continue to speak out of turn I will prevent you from speech with a cloth gag.** As he speaks, he wraps his hand around Anders' half-hard cock and squeezes. 

  
His laughter is muffled by the hand over his mouth until Justice squeezes his cock, cutting it off with a moan of pleasure. The commanding tone makes him shiver with delight, a brow quirking. If the spirit thought this would keep him quiet, he was wrong. Anders wanted nothing more than to tease his friend, he mumbles behind the hand.

  
"What? Annoyed because I caught you in a lie, Justice." It wasn't exactly the truth but who cares, he wanted to goad him further and that gag was tempting.

  
 **I do not lie,** Justice says, sitting up and taking Anders with him as he rummages through his belongings. He finds the washbasin where Anders laid old clean bandages out to dry and takes one of the lengths, folding it in half and tying it easily into Anders' mouth and behind his head. Lying back on the bed, he grips Anders once again by the cock, harder than before. I **warned you.**

  
Warned him, he did. Little did the spirit know but that had been his plan all along, Anders enjoyed feeling helpless under those he trusted. At the moment, Justice was the only one who truly fit that bill. His toes curl at the strength the spirit uses against his cock, a choked moan leaving him. The blond thrusts his hips up into the hand, eyes squeezing just to imagine Justice hovering above him.

  
 **Your body is mine to command,** he says again, his other hand sliding down Anders' chest and belly, down between his legs to gather his balls in his hand and squeeze them up against his body. **Your pleasure is mine to command. It is my duty to tear you apart.**

  
Justice conjures slick and heat in his palm and strokes Anders' cock, mimicking a wet mouth as much as he's capable. He rotates his hand on the downstroke and increases his pressure when he moves his hand back up, bringing Anders to hardness in a matter of a few dizzying seconds. This was much better. Anders' tongue rubs against the gag in his mouth, muscles low in his stomach flexing and tensing out of reflex. He's safe here with Justice, the spirit would never truly harm him without reason. 

  
His whimpering moans stifled, the mage presses his ass down into the fur while Justice strokes him. He'd give anything to have a real body on top of him, the ability to rake his nails down the spirit's back as he rutted into him. Justice above him, between his legs bringing him to completion over and over again. He knows it could never be a possibility like this but Justice is kind enough to give him something to quell the desires. This alone is pleasurable enough, the spirit taking control of his body to please him. It's more than he could have ever hoped for.

  
His cock is left standing red and wet off his hips, as Justice suddenly flips Anders over onto his belly, trapping it under his hips. Anders gives a gasp of surprise as those slick fingers move instead between his cheeks and press against his furl. **I will prepare you for my cock,** Justice says, and Anders gasps through the gag, delighted just by hearing his voice say something so filthy. 

  
Thin fingers open Anders up, sliding inside him to the knuckle and spreading open. Despite the chill of the back room, Anders is swiftly feeling very, very warm as Justice tags his prostate with his fingernails. Thinking cleverly, the spirit simulates a pressure and heat on Anders' lower back, that feels remarkably like a hand, pressing him down into the bed as he's fucked open by probing fingers. 

  
Anders murmurs sweet praises around the gag, they're incoherent but the meaning and tone are all the same. His thin body quakes under the pleasure, hips rutting his cock against the furs in desperation. He's thoroughly disheveled, needy. Feet push against the bed as he attempts to thrust himself up into the thin fingers. Drool quickly soaks the cloth in his mouth, unable to keep his mouth shut as it leaves a wet imprint on the pillow beneath him. The spirit was true to his word, Anders couldn't foresee anything quite as talented as this given the circumstances. Justice was truly the best at what he did, pleasing the mage to the point where he'd want no one else but him.

  
 **Do you want my cock, Anders?** Justice asks as his free hand reaches for the phallus on the crate beside the bed, and he warms the cool bone in his hand before pulling his fingers out of the mage and positioning the tip against his furl, but he doesn't let Anders buck back against it to take it inside. **Let me know you want it.**

  
Anders whines, rocking his hips back as much as he's allowed. It's not enough, the tip barely presses against him when he does. The blond squirms against the bed, needing to be filled by him. He sobs against the gag, begging 'please, take me' in muffled tones. The warmed bone surges forward, stretching Anders out wider than he's felt in a long, long time. Justice keeps a firm grip on the tapered grip at the end, the knob cool in his palm as he pistons the phallus into Anders with force. The mage's torso is twisted on the bed, his shoulder wrenched back in order to fuck him mercilessly with the dildo.   
  


**This is what you desire,** Justice's voice is rumbling and everywhere in his head, it feels too big to be contained in Anders' body. **Relief for your need to be filled is supplied by me alone. You will not couple with another while I command your body. You are mine.**

  
It stretches him enough that he can feel the burn, the way it fills him completely. The phallus is large, larger than anyone he's had the pleasure of bedding. Anders is completely delirious with pleasure, his only responses are whimpering moans and pleasured sighs. His hips rock back with each thrust of the phallus, thoroughly fucking himself on it. The possessiveness in Justice's voice doesn't go unnoticed, however Anders believes it's simply the spirit's way of keeping him focused on their mission. If asked, that's what Justice would say, too. 

  
The pressure is still there on his back, a phantom hand pinning his back to the bed, holding his waist down and preventing him from truly getting the leverage he would like to rut back on the toy. He's at Justice's mercy, at the whim of the spirit totally, he who regulates the rhythm and the  pressure and the depth and leves Anders nothing to do but take. 

  
**Submit to me,** Justice commands as the toy stretches Anders with every rough thrust, singing pleasure up through his trembling body. **Admit that you are mine.**

  
His toes press and push against the furs but it's all in vain. It's useless to struggle against Justice, there are no physical bonds to squirm free of. The phallus is long enough that it feels like it's pushing into his stomach, Anders knows that's not the reality but it's been so long since he's had something so large. An ache begins to tingle along his shoulder and down his spine from the position but it's worth it for the pleasure.

  
Anders' tongue wriggles inside his mouth, tucking and wetting the gag until he can loosen it enough to speak. "I'm yours." He moans with abandon, spreading his legs as wide as they can go to accommodate the thrusting toy.

  
 **Correct,** Justice rolls Anders over onto his back and hooks one of his legs up high, the other spread and nearly on the floor as he wraps his warm hand around Anders' weeping cock and maintains the thrusting pace with the other. The pleasure wracking the mage's body is nearly incomprehensible  in its strength, and he has half a mind to think he'll never recover from this, he'll be a walking zombie for the rest of his life just waiting for his next fix like this. 

  
It isn't just the pleasure of being filled by something solid, though  the maker above knows he's missed that. Justice's voice filling his head, the strict control he has over the mage's body, his ability to somehow consume Anders' being. It's overwhelming, pleasurably torturous. He's helpless under the spirit's control, he can do nothing but give in and become a babbling mess. It's only a few strokes when he spills over the edge, his entire body convulsing and quivering of it's own accord as he wails out in wanton abandon.

  
His insides clamp down furiously on the toy inside him, riding out the waves of pleasure with abandon as Justice milks his cock until he feels raw and painful. His body shakes and trembles, and the spirit's presence in his muscles and his sinew lengthens his orgasm to a brain-boiling length of time. It feels like the muscle contractions will never cease until finally, finally he sags back down to the furs. Sticky and sweaty and trembling with overworked muscles, the toy still stuck firmly inside, all the way to the knobbly base which sits right against his hole, the entire length of the toy trapped up inside him. If he breathes in too deeply, he can see the shape of it in his skinny belly.

  
Each soft desperate grunt and whimper is involuntary as he lays exhausted against the furs, he sucks in a breath to gaze down at the shape of it against his stomach. A trembling hand raises to brush over it, down between his legs where he can feel the knobby base. Anders stares blankly at the ceiling, no thoughts running through his empty mind, lips parted to take in shallow gasps. Bliss follows, his limbs feel both heavy and light at the same time, giving him the illusion of floating.

  
He whimpers as Justice slowly pulls the toy out of him and sets it on the table for later cleaning, and he gives in completely to the spirit as he manipulates his exhausted body. He removes the gag from Anders' mouth and tucks him under the furs, even taking the care to turn the bottom layer upside down so the soft side lays against his oversensitive skin. He didn't do this last time, he just receded into Anders' mind to let the mage take care of the aftercare. 

It's strange to think that Justice would do something like this, there were other lovers who had simply left him there to pick himself up. The meticulous and almost caring way the spirit settles him in, stirs something within Anders that he'd thought never possible. He blinks wearily, his mind unable to form the answers to his unspoken questions. Sleep came to him rather quickly, it wasn't like before. Anders didn't toss and turn nor stay awake anxiously thinking about what will or won't become.   
  


**Sleep now,** commands Justice. **We have work in the morning.**

  
"Thank you," Anders manages before drifting off into a deep, quiet sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> written with selapetrae on tumblr!


End file.
